


Art of Seduction

by h_itoshi



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Art class really is diffuse, M/M, Rebounding never hurt anyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 10:37:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5331041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h_itoshi/pseuds/h_itoshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yabu glances at his painting, assessing that it's pretty good now, and he's already opened the cupboard and is about to put the brushes inside before he looks inside and jumps with an involuntary sound of shock.<br/>There's a person inside, who appears to have been sleeping, but now he stares up at Yabu with eyes wide in panic. "Shush I'm hiding!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Art of Seduction

Yabu hates art class. First, he sucks at it, and second, his friends are better than him, and that's not very fun when you're a competitive person. He never meant to apply for it, but that's what you get for being too slow picking out courses you want. Then Hikaru and Daiki were both taking art, and Yabu figured it couldn't be too bad.

Except that it is.

He sighs as he wipes the brushes from leftover paint thinner with a piece of paper while mentally cursing this subject and Takizawa-sensei and everything associated with it including this stupid paint thinner and oil paint and expressing emotions and explaining your choice of palette.

It wouldn't be too bad if it was all about the drawing or painting or sculpting. He's not too bad at that (honestly better than at least Daiki). It's all this shit around it. What is he aiming to express, why did he choose purple and not red, how would he consider these proportions against those ones? And that's what brings him to this classroom a Thursday afternoon when he could be out having coffee with his friends and talk about baseball.

His painting isn't bad, but he's had no idea how to explain it to the given concept 'borderline', and so after four classes of feeling lost, he showed it to Hikaru and begged for help. He did help, came with a few suggestions that Yabu would never have thought of himself but sounded like something Takizawa-sensei would buy. It was just that the simplest suggestion included changing the entire colour palette.

But now, he thinks he might be able to pull this together. He doesn't want his grades ruined by some damn vague art class.

It's only 5.30 anyway, if his friends decide to go for dinner he'll be able to make it, Yabu reasons as he heads for the cupboards under the main bench to put his brushes away.

He glances at his painting from here, and assesses that it's pretty good now, and he's already opened the cupboard and is about to put the brushes inside before he looks into it and jumps with an involuntary sound of shock.

There's a person inside, who seems to have been sleeping, but now stares up at Yabu with eyes wide in panic. "Shush I'm hiding!"

The boy hisses, then reaches out for the cupboard door to try and close it again, but Yabu holds it still, heart rate gradually slowing down.

"Uhm... From what? I'm the only one here? How long have you been in there?" Yabu asks, because it feels a little weird knowing there's been another person in this room the entire time.

The boy looks at Yabu for a while like he doesn't understand the questions, cramped in between old containers of oil paint and jars of brushes.

"We're alone?" He asks, voice still low, and when Yabu slowly nods, he breathes a sigh and starts unfolding himself from out of the cupboard, his bag falling out before him.

He's small, at least a head shorter than Yabu if not more, and pretty young looking, so Yabu can kind of see how he could fit in the cupboard. But not why he would be there.

"... What are you doing in a cupboard?" Yabu asks, watching as the boy groans and rubs the muscles of his neck, stumbling a little as his legs must have fallen asleep and he takes a hold of the edge of the counter to steady himself.

"I told you, I'm hiding." The boy replies, his other hand unconsciously fixing his brown dyed hair, and Yabu can't help but notice he's very pretty.

The boy's eyes widen when he sees the clock on the wall. "Shit!"

"... So for how long have you been in there?" Yabu asks again, and he has to smile at the boy's facial expression.

"... Probably two hours." The boy admits, seeming a little stunned himself. "Damn."

"So... Again, why?" Yabu inquires.

"I just broke up with my boyfriend, like, two days ago, and he tries to talk to me like we're okay, which we're _not_ , and so when I saw him in the corridor I had to hide and this was the closest." The boy explains, words coming out of his mouth seemingly before he can think them through, because then he slams a hand over his mouth and stares at Yabu. "Shit you're not a teacher are you?"

Yabu frowns, but then remembers that his uniform jacket and tie is in a pile on the floor next to his bag and all that gives him away is his uniform pants. "Nope." He reassures, smiling, and the boy takes a breath of relief. "I'm Yabu Kota, third year student."

"Hi, Yamada Ryosuke, first year." The boy introduces himself.

"Nice meeting you." Yabu raises an eyebrow. "In the brush cupboard."

"Yeah uhm, you too, I guess?" Yamada shrugs a little awkwardly. "I suppose I should leave, my friends probably think I'm dead."

"They've probably broken up with people too, they'll understand." Yabu grins, and Yamada nods with a small sigh.

"Yeah, he's so stupid I can't even look at him, with his ridiculous I'm-fine-I'll-just-find-someone-new-smile and stupid haircut and idiot friends." He blurts out, and Yabu laughs before he can stop himself.

"You have a lot of pent up aggression towards this ex-boyfriend I can tell." He grins, then leans down to put the brushes back in the cupboard and closing it.

"Maybe a little." Yamada mumbles, blushing slightly.

"It's okay, I hated one of my ex-boyfriends fiercely for three months after we broke up." Yabu comforts, and Yamada's head whips around to stare at him at the mention of his sexuality. Yabu lowers his eyes to hide his grin at the expression of relief and familiarity, and his new view lets him see a few shiny red and yellow splotches on Yamada's pants. "Looks like you've got paint on you by the way."

"What? Shit!" Yamada curses after the short confusion of switch of subject, then nearly twists his neck trying to look at how bad the damage is. "He made me ruin my pants too oh my god I hate him."

"Easy, I'll help you." Yabu grins, then heads towards the sink to get the paint thinner and some paper.

"Thanks." Yamada says, resigned as he watches Yabu pour liquid on the paper.

"Hop up." Yabu tells him and pats the counter. "You're really short."

"Whatever." Yamada grumbles, but does jump up to sit on the counter, making it easier for Yabu to reach.

"So what happened with the boyfriend?" Yabu can't help but ask, curious as to why he deserves so much hate, then starts dabbing the chemical-soaked paper against a red stain on Yamada's thigh. “Uhm, is it okay if I do this?”

It feels odd being so close to someone he just met, the smell and feel of Yamada completely unfamiliar, but he can't say he minds.

“Yeah, it's okay.” Yamada says almost dismissively before he draws a deep breath like he's gathering power. "Well, the thing is, he never did anything for my sake, everything was just about him all the time. And so he wouldn't make an effort to see me, didn't prioritize me like, ever, and just generally didn't give a shit about me or my feelings."

"Yeah?" Yabu asks, recognizing that behaviour. "Did you date for long?"

Yabu neatly continues rubbing at the paint spots that gradually come off after some work.

"Like 9 months or something." Yamada sighs, like that was a huge mistake.

"That's some time at least." Yabu comments, thinking that kids these days barely date two weeks before breaking up again. Well, kids and Daiki. "Is he hot?"

It takes Yamada a while to answer, like he's thinking about it, and Yabu's reaching the point where he has to get between Yamada's leg and the counter surface but he's not quite sure how to ask him.

"... In a way." Yamada finally replies. "If you've seen it once you'll keep seeing it, like when he focuses on something he's passionate about I just kind of wanted to rip his clothes off, but he's not wow shit hot?"

Yabu laughs, but he's not quite sure how he feels about the sex reference. "And how old are you again?"

Yamada gives him a knowing look. "Sixteen and a half? Why?"

Yabu shakes his head with a smile, trying to tell himself that he'd definitely done his share of things at that age.

“Just wondering if you could turn around?” He asks instead, figuring making a joke of it is less awkward than anything else.

Yamada just raises an eyebrow, then glances at Yabu's hand resting idly against the table next to his leg and hops off the counter and turns around.

“And I was afraid you'd consider me jailbait now.” He mumbles, but he's smirking, Yabu can tell.

“I do.” Yabu says firmly as he kneels down to take care of the stains at the back of Yamada's thigh, determinedly not thinking about how Yamada would probably look good bent over the counter even though there was an obvious insinuation of that. He shakes his head a little, realizing he's probably gone too long without physical contact now.

“That's a shame.” Yamada says genuinely. “You're really tall and pretty and a little rebounding definitely wouldn't hurt me.”

Yabu raises an eyebrow as he involuntarily spreads his fingers over the fabric of Yamada's pants before he catches himself and keeps rubbing at a particularly stubborn yellow stain that's dried.

“... You're very... direct.” Is all he says, very unused to boys younger than him giving such open propositions.

Yamada shrugs and glances down at him, his cheeks at least a little pink and Yabu's happy to learn that he does have some shame. “Guess I'm a little desperate to get back at my ex.”

Yabu can't help but laugh. “Even if I'd agree to something like that, I wouldn't let you flaunt me around.”

“I wouldn't have to, I'd know what I did and be smug about it.” Yamada explains, shifting his weight enough that Yabu feels the muscles in his thighs. “I guess you know that feeling better than I do.”

“I suppose.” Yabu says vaguely, then finishes the last stain finally and stands up, feeling a lot more comfortable being back to looking down at the younger boy. He doesn't really want to think about the lapse in judgement that his own rebounding should be called. Like that _really_ drunken time he made out with Hikaru that neither of them ever mentions and Daiki doesn't even know of.

Yamada turns around, and hops back up onto the counter like he liked it there, tilting his head and looking up at him with a small smile. “Thanks for fixing me up.”

“You're welcome.” Yabu says, feeling like he should leave but somehow he doesn't.

Yabu knows what's happening even before Yamada reaches up to grasp a hold of Yabu's open collar, guiding him down enough for their heights to match, then there are soft plush lips against his and Yabu doesn't resist.

It's a coaxing kiss, persuasive, and Yabu easily forgets that Yamada's definitely jailbait in favour of kissing him back, his lips addictive and taste intriguing. Before he knows it, tongues are tangled and Yabu's hand is in Yamada's hair, twirling the brown strands between his fingers and enjoying the way Yamada's breath hitches a little at the pull of styled hair being played with.

He's not entirely sure for how long they kiss, but when he suddenly feels the material of uniform pants under his fingers and realizes he's moved his hand to Yamada's thigh again, he breaks the kiss as he remembers where they are and who they are.

“You don't have to stop.” Yamada says, voice considerably lower than before, eyes hopeful and lips puffing up, but Yabu shakes his head.

“You got your rebound making-out.” He says, his own voice a little raspy and not a 100% under control yet. “We're in school and I don't know you and you actually are too young.”

Yamada pouts, which looks so dangerously alike a kicked puppy that Yabu has to look away. “Fine.”

He slides down from the counter and picks up his bag from the floor, and Yabu almost wants to laugh at the weirdness of all this. He would if he wasn't still so breathless.

“... I should probably drop some cool line about 'getting to know me' here but... I'm not very cool.” Yamada shrugs as he hauls his bag onto his shoulder.

Yabu raises and eyebrow and chuckles, not really sure what to say.

“Thanks for the date.” Yamada grins, then heads towards the door. “Guess I'll see you around.”

“Yeah.” Yabu agrees, then Yamada's gone, and he's convinced he'll definitely notice him if he sees him again.

He looks around the room, his normal art class room looking like nothing even happened between now and Yabu swearing over his painting, but he knows this kind of one-night-stand-ish kissing is all he'll think about when entering this room from now on.

He grins and heads for the trash to throw the remover and paint stained papers away, thinking that at least he'll have something nice to think about when art class kicks his ass from now on.

 

~*~

 


End file.
